


Hug

by NerdsNeedLoveToo



Category: Hit the Floor (TV), NCIS
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, ZUDE - Freeform, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsNeedLoveToo/pseuds/NerdsNeedLoveToo
Summary: This story examines how we hug... or rather, how our favorite characters hug. Some chapters explore a lover's hug. Other chapters delve into the depth of a parents love.





	1. Zero v. Gideon

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the shows or characters in this multi-chapter fic. I'll be adding chapters over time, including fandoms ranging from HtF to Shadowhunters to NCIS.

What is a hug? According to Merriam-Webster, it can mean to _press tightly especially in the arms._ It can also mean _to hold fast_ or cherish. Everyone hugs their own way. Whether in passion or comfort, the act of a hug is unique and steadfast to each person.

These are some stories of great hugs.

**Zero v. Gideon, Hit the Floor**

Zero didn’t hug. He didn’t embrace.  Instead, he nipped and bit. He slapped and soothed. Every contact arched, bucked, and shouted. Never did he hug, because to hold fast or press tightly made his heart thrum too fast and anxiety to rise up and choke him.

Then he met Jude.

With hands and lips, Jude would hold Zero’s face, his shoulders, his chest. But when he tried to wind his arms around and grasp, Zero deflected with a well-placed tongue or skilled fingers. With low, keening moans, Zero would pin him down, buck up into Jude, and watch him gasp for air. He’d pull Jude higher and higher, always in control, until Jude bit his lower lip and then threw his head back in a shout. He’d follow, surrounded by clenching heat and sweat-drenched skin.

Then Zero would disconnect those few touch-points, tie off the condom, and roll out the door.

So Jude pushed, fighting against the steel cylinder that contained Zero’s control – and his hidden heart. It became a mission to make Zero give up a piece of himself, which would never have come to pass, until  Jude decided he deserved more. Zero couldn’t give him anything beyond wild passion and hidden affection, with the occasional touch of his cheek added to the mix.

Walking away hurt Jude more than Zero could ever imagine, or so Jude believed. Little did he know. Zero never anticipated that the rejection would hammer so hard it cracked open something soldered shut.

Neither expected Zero’s resolve begin to crumble and for that iron chamber to open. It did, though, and that broken heart he’d hidden from the world stepped tentatively forward – all gangly limbs and awkward smiles.

While the world watched, Gideon arched up into the kiss, drawing a surprised Jude close. Swaying together, he gave Jude that bit of his soul that kept Zero human. He exposed his crush. Opened himself to humiliation. Yet, he couldn’t find it within to care beyond Jude’s taste and those little sounds he made in the back of his throat. Later, after the surprise of love’s true kiss gave way to shared secrets all but hidden in a tangle under a comforter, Gideon cherished Jude as he should have all along.

Chest to chest, arms wound around each other, they held fast. They shifted, rubbed, and reached untold peaks, all while gasping _Gideon_ and _Jude_ into each others’ mouths. When they lay sated, Gideon stayed, and kissed Jude’s neck, nuzzling his lover. They slept. They woke. They repeated.

Jude smiled wide in newfound confidence, and Gideon smile shyly. They were lovers. They loved.

So while Zero might come out to play, it would always be Gideon who left Jude moaning, his pulse point exposed, and completely replete. It was Gideon who wound his arms around Jude at the end of each night, and slept with his breath on the back of Jude’s neck. It was Gideon who held with strong arms, no longer afraid.

It turned out Gideon was the playful one. He would walk up behind, pull Jude’s back close to his chest, and snuffle or lick Jude’s neck, until the other man tilted his head with a laugh. Together, they would play a game of tag of sorts, so much more innocent than anyone ever knew – a game where surrendering to vulnerabilities became the point system, with both winning in the end. Every time.

One day Gideon couldn’t remember why he’d been afraid to begin with.


	2. Tony DiNozzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To those who knew Tony best – the ones that caught the rare glimpse of his true self – only one word applied: tactile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them as I miss them terribly.

If you asked _anyone_ who knew Tony DiNozzo to use one word to describe him, they’d be torn. Sure, there’s be charming. There’s also be insecure. Some might even toss in narcissist.

To those who knew Tony best – the ones that caught the rare glimpse of his true self – only one word applied: tactile. Whether he was absorbing tears of a friend or being called to attention by a slap to the head, Tony warmed at all of it. It’s what made him most human. Touch grounded him.

Abby’s group hugs made him feel like home. With those who mattered most touching him and he touching them, Tony had what he’d never had before – he had family. And what a family he’d built. These people, these agents and specialists could curl into him with affection, even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. Mainly because they knew the truth. Tony DiNozzo never took for granted the feel of fingers and palms on shoulders, or the surge of elation at knowing he was wanted by the way Ziva or Abby leaned into him.

Even Tim, with his persistent frowns at Tony’s antics understand that the senior field agent could be calmed with something as simple as a hand on the shoulder.

It always worked.

Gibbs, of course, used his own method, making sure to cup the back of Tony’s head with his palm when the younger man needed the support. That had always been Gibbs’ preferred (albeit unorthodox) version of a hug. But if you asked Tony, he’d say it worked. Gave him a little zing. Made him feel like someone was paying attention enough to get him back on track, or give a rare attaboy.

Then there was Ziva.

With her, there was comfort. Compassion.

He’d once said he’d die for her. In Saleem’s camp, as he sat beaten in a chair, she was revealed broken, facing him. He’d drunk in her face, and found her profoundly beautiful, even through the cuts and bruises. He’d offered himself for her and to her, wanting nothing more than to touch and hold – to give her the comfort of an embrace.

Eventually, freed, he did. However, it had not been without sharp, angled jabs of discomfort at first.

Then he’d followed her to Israel, where he’d removed his masks, shown his soul, and held her wholly. He’d left her, knowing he couldn’t stay away from his duty, but he’d given her a piece of himself, and asked her to hold it within. It tethered them, and even though he missed her achingly, he felt them both still holding through the ache of emotions as they grew into separate purposes.

He’d thought nothing could be stronger than the invisible touch between them. He was wrong.

Tali… beautiful, terrifying Tali.

On his knees, he scooped her up, breathed in her baby scent, and tickled her ear when he exhaled. With her heart beating next to his, he held her against his chest as she slept, and realized the ultimate truth.

This creature, made up of his charm and Ziva’s sweet smile held his world in her tiny palms – the same palms that rested on him. He’d never known. How could he not have known?

His life revolved around her every breath, her every tear, her every smile. And he knew before she ever learned to say _Daddy_ that his life was forfeit.


End file.
